I was at peace until you came 
And set a careless mind aflame; 
I lived in quiet; cold, content; 
All longing in safe banishment, 
Until your ghostly lips and eyes 
Made wisdom unwise. 

Naught was in me to tempt your feet 
To seek a lodging. Quite forgot 
Lay the sweet solitude we two 
In childhood used to wander through; 
Time's cold had closed my heart about, 
And shut you out. 

Well, and what then? . . . O vision grave, 
Take all the little all I have! 
Strip me of what in voiceless throught 
Life's kept of life, unhoped, unsought! -- 
Reverie and dream that memory must 
Hide deep in dust! 

This only I say: Though cold and bare, 
The haunted house you have chosen to share, 
Still 'neath its walls the moonbeam goes 
And trembles on the untended rose; 
Still o'er its broken roof-tree rise 
The starry arches of the skies; 
And 'neath your lightest word shall be 
The thunder of an ebbing sea.